Forged in Fire
by ParadeThisCity
Summary: [AU: Mary dose not leave France] Many things are forged in fire, metal, relationships and alliances. With England and everyone else plotting Mary's death, the the union between herself and Francis must be forged in fire as if a sword of best workmen ship. The only question is will it be enough? [rated M for sexual themes and language]
1. Introduction

_"Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, the providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way."_

_ -William Hutchinson Murray _


	2. Chapter one lead me on lover

**-Chapter one- **

"What do you mean, you're Elizabeth and Henry's daughter!" The Henry II was outraged. "Why is this the first anyone has heard of this!"

The women –_Greta_- made no sign for distress at the Kings raised voice, or even went he sent a vine glass clear across the floor, "My mother's been dying since they day I was born, they knew that you and other countries would find my sisters claim the thrown weak, and unjust in God's eyes. So they sent me away to Germany, to live in the German court. I have been engaged to since the age of four to their next king; when I heard of my mother's death, I returned and made my claim to the throne, because _I_ am the _rightful_ heir. You'd do well to respect that."

Greta turned now to Mary, "I feel I should apologize, for the actions of my country. I make no claim to Scotland. But I should warn you, while I make no claim, and have no interest in your country, I tell you this, make strong your alliance with France, for the lords and counts and dukes are thirsty not only for blood, but for the blood of your soldier's I can stop them. But for now; make and Alliance with Denmark and Germany, before my union with its king.; If these precautions are not taken, I fear, darkness will plague this land."

Francis stepped forward, " How can we know for sure, that you aren't waiting for us to let our guards before you strike, driving knives into our backs as they are turned?"

Greta sighed striding to the other side of the room and sitting down, " Before I was a moved to Germany, I used to sit this secret little room, behind my fathers chambers. I heard things, plans they've planning the fall of Scotland and France for a very long time, since the time of you're grandfather I assume your Grace. The English want everything and anything; they can get their hands on. I suspect I'd be the same had I grown up in the English courts. You think King Henry that you've got England right where you want them, however for them everything is going according to plan! Invade England, and thousands of innocent men and women will die, and your sons."

Silence fell on the chamber, everyone digesting what they heard. The king was seething, his fist clenched and sent yet another glass of wine across the room, and upending a table. Catharine was calculating, it seemed new players were emerging into the game she played, it seemed there was new threat, or old, some would say to her sons life, all her sons. Mary was shocked, she would not be the one to start a war, and she most sure now, that laying claim to England would not be the way to go, here and now standing before was rightful heir, and no one not even King could stand in the way of her crown. Francis was gleeful, he feared for Mary's life with the new development with England, and his father wanting her to lay claim to the crown. She could loose her head; she could have even greater treats upon her life. However with Greta being the rightful heir to throne, Mary had no claim, so it would be foolish for her make claim.

Mary was the first to speak, "I trust you Greta. I remember you too, you came too Scotland first did you not?"

Greta smiled, "I thought you'd forget. Back when no one was trying to kill you, and your father was till alive. Back when things were so simple."

"We used to play in the garden of the place, and lie under the cherry blossom trees for hours, while the guards screamed for us." Giggled Mary. "I thought you were dead, one day your were there, my best friend and the next you were gone and no one not Kenna, or Lola or Greer or…." She trailed off unable to say the name of her fallen friend she cleared throat, " or anyone else knew what had happened; even my father refused to speak of it."

"While the thrown has always been mine, Elizabeth's mother seeks the throne for her daughter. My guards had gotten word that the English were riding out for Scotland, so we fled, told your father and it wide spread that I had died." Explained the heir. "It pains me greatly to know that my own blood, would gladly see my head on a spike. "

"You are not alone there, cousin." Laughed Mary humorlessly, "Elizabeth and her mother would gladly see us both be-headed, let us pray to God that it dose happen."

"So _princess _Greta," Interjected the King, "What are your plans than? Peace?" He laughed at the word.

"Yes." Spoke Greta. "There will be as much peace as I can guarantee, your treaty holds with England for now, you are secure with Spain. However you have tensions with Portugal and Italy, you must rectify this situation. "

"We will not!" Cried Catharine outraged, "and who are you to demanded with do these things!"

"Do you with for the death of your children!" quipped Greta, "You wish for your sons to die a most brutal and bloody death hmm? Peace, is what this land and all other lands so desperately need; and if the kings and lords and dukes could get there heads out of their arses for just a moment they would see, that not everything belongs to them!"

"She is right mother." Spoke Francis, "We've been fighting for too long, and now someone actually has a plan for peace, and you seem to be so against it!"

"Why are you and father and everyone else so against it?" He questioned before turning to face Greta, "You have my support, your Grace."

"Thank you Francis," Smiled the young princess, "I am the most grateful."

"Scotland has stood and will stand behind you Greta." Mary said smiling as she moved to embarrass her cousin.

Mary knew she must tell Francis about the prophecy, but she feared his reaction, he thought these things mere superstation. He needed to know, to take precautions so she would not loose him. She was strong, a strong queen and an even stronger women, but Mary was not strong enough to walk away from him. She'd been pacing the dauphin's room for some time now, waiting his return from court. They both had been in court a great deal, since Greta's arrival, but him far more than she. The wedding had been pushed back, two weeks because of the news of a claim to the throne of England, this had it made is possible for Mary's mother to make the journey from Scotland to France.

It had been a week, since the arrival of her cousin Greta, and it seemed as if everyday Mary would rise determined to leave, but then she'd see Francis- Oh how she'd see him, and loose her wits, loose her sense of reality and loose any desire to leave him, any desire at all. Mary loved Francis with all her heart, and she'd keep him, safe if it was last thing she'd do. Francis would live, even if it coasted her, her life.

"Mary?" a voice called she looked up, she hadn't even heard him return, "what-what are you doing here?"

Mary swallowed loudly, nervously, "We," she swallowed again before speaking, " we-there is something I wish to speak with you about, is it a good time?"

"Of course, " Francis said walking over to her and leading her to the bed, " I'll always have time you my love, what troubles you?"

"You-you need to know why tired to leave, why I was going to leave." Mary said shakily, "It is because of Nostradamus and your mother, they had told me of prophecy, one that predicts your death, in the near future if we marry, Nostradamus said that the only way to change your fate would be to leave you, so I tired to do just that." Her words tumbled in such a heavy full that Francis was barely able to keep up with her, but he did, and he did not know what to more angry with. His mother for seeking out his future, Nostradamus for not coming to him with this information, about _his _life, or Mary for believing such superstations.

"I decide my own fate," He said, " I make my own decisions, and I will marry who I choose, and I choose you Mary you! For I would rather spend one day married to you than a thousand without you."

Mary was frustrated, " But why! I will cause your death! How can you be okay with that! Nostradamus, predictions have yet to be wrong! He told me earlier that day that one of my ladies would die Aylee is dead! Now you condemn yourself to short life, so me! I cannot let you do that!" Mary was frustrated this wasn't supposed to do this! He was supposed to make her leave!

"You're to send me away back to Scotland, so you will be safe! For I could not survive in a world where you do not live. I am not strong enough to leave on my own, which is why you must make me!" Mary said, she just needed a push, and she could go, he had pulled her back once she was so close to setting him free, to giving him a life, a life not plagued by his own death that it seemed he would be forced to suffer if he wedded her.

"No."

The single word was forceful and commanding, it startled Mary, she spun around to face him. "What do you mean No? No what exactly?

"No I will not send you away." He said moving towards her, " You will stay, and you will Mary me. And we will Honeymoon in Paris, and rarely be seen, for we spend nights, day and evenings in a bed, and I will, ravish and bed you, over and over again, do you understand Mary?"

"Francis-" Mary began but she was cut of when he crushed his mouth to hers, His lips nipping, pulling and suckling her own with his. He moved to backwards towards the bed, laying them down. His hands roamed her body moving from her thigh over her crotch, trailing up her belly and ghosting over her breasts, and clasping his hand in her own, as his lips sucked the hallow of her throat.

Mary moaned her back arching off the bed, and she hooked her legs around his waist, rutting against him, causing Francis to gasp into her neck. "Mary, do you want me stop?"

"No. Please don't-don't stop." She plead, and that was all he need before he lost his control completely…. again. He hungered for the taste of her mouth, ached for her body. His hands moved from her hands down her waist as he kissed down her body, taking on her pink plush nipples into his mouth throw the night gown she wore.

Mary moaned, "Oh-Oh-Oh God." Francis grinned at this moving his hands to slip the straps of her gown, down to reveal her breast, as he quickly suckled upon her other breast, causing another moan to tare it self from Mary's throat, it seemed that she trying to contain the noises that escaped her lips.

"You," Francis said he pulled down the rest of her gown and tore it from her body," are so beautiful. The most beautiful queen the world has ever seen. This statement causes the Queen of Scotland to blush rather deeply and turn her head into the pillow beside her head. She meant to make so sort of quick remark, about how he only saying that because she allowed him to lie in bed with her once again, but any response quickly died and she felt a warm mouth placed on her slick folds, his tonged licking from start to finish.

"Ah- Francis, oh my God, ahh," Moaned Mary. "Francis, Francis, Francis."

As she reached her peak and fell from it, Francis fumbled with his trousers, untying and pulling them down tossing them onto the floor where he'd discarded Mary's nightdress.

"My beautiful, beautiful Queen of Scots," He murmured, " How I can not wait for our wedding, my bride." Then he was there, everywhere at once, he was _inside_ her, and this was much better than the first time, the moan that tore through Mary was one that could be heard from the guards stationed outside the door. And now there most surely would be gossip about the undisturbed bed of young Queen; but neither cared, too lost in there pleasure, and bliss, to give a care in the world.

Mary stirred the next morning fully rested, no fears of not waking due to poison, or a stag's head hanging over her head, but she woke full of joy, and soreness. When attempting to move, she found she stuck, by an ivory arm draped across her waist. She could not help the grin that painted it self on her lips. This was much better than sleeping alone in her own bed. It was not that the bed did not suite her, as it did. It was just…that she was lonely in her bed, and often found that when she not angry or annoyed with her fiancé that she often wished for his company.

She sighed contently and borrowed into Francis and reflexively in his sleep, his arm tightened around her. She watched, from the bed the birds flying and sinning and outside the window. They were so beautiful, and it reminded her of her time with the nuns. She missed them, she missed life out there on the country side, where she was safe [until that day] from the attacks of the English. The English. How she wished they would leave her alone, leave her people, land and crown alone, for Scotland did not belong to the English.

Mary Took comfort in Greta's words and arrival, as from what her estranged cousin had said, she would fight to keep to keep the English off her land. This was good, however just because a King or even a Queen wanted something did not mean they always got it. There where Lords, Counts and Dukes to contend with, and they would fight tooth and nail, for her country and crown. Mary would have to speak with Greta, in court today about the plans for making alliances with the other countries, for allying with Germany and Denmark as there armies were growing. If they could gain alliances with the rest of Europe, then they would have the English out numbered and if they remained strong, Scotland should be free for centuries.

Unnoticed to the Scots queen, the dauphin had stirred and was gazing lovingly at his bride. He watched as her brow tightened and relax as thoughts through her head. He smiled as he watched her face light up at the sight of two hummingbirds chasing one another, as there wings beat the air, in such a way that did not even seem possible.

"Good morning my beautiful Queen of Scots." He murmured finally nuzzling his head into her neck, kissing the skin softly. He felt her tense and then relax and sigh contently.

"Francis, I hope I did not wake you." She seemed worried for a moment. He waved her off," You did not, however you _do_ seem to thinking rather intently, what troubles you?"

She sighed again, she seemed to be doing that a lot lately, in the past few weeks, " It's only England."

A bark like laugh escaped his lips, "_Only_ England right, well good thing it's isn't anything pressing."

She glared playfully at him, " Don't mock me, Francis, what I mean is even with Greta going to be the next queen, we are still in danger, Elizabeth and my Aunt still want my head, and it worries me that we shall never be safe! And what happens when we have children? Will seek there heads as well? "

It pained Francis to see her distressed, and he curse and damned the English to Hell fire, as they were the ones who cause Mary such pain. He rubbed soothing circles into her back and kissed the base of her throat, "All will be well my love. Greta's plan is clever, and I believe in it, and also her. She quite the charmer you cousin."

Mary smacked his arm lightly, "_Quite the Charmer_? Are you falling for my cousin now? Are you going to leave me and marry her?"

He laughed at he teasing, "Perhaps if you keep hitting, such strength for such a small, "he kissed her arm, fragile body."

He laughed as she gasped," I am not _fragile!_"

It was here laughing with Mary that Francis realized that he had never been happier, than right now in this moment. Laughing, joking with bride, and naked at that. Francis considered himself the luckiest man in all the world. Perhaps his army, was not strongest or his country not the richest but he had the most beautiful bride in his arms and she was not babbling on about her mothers arrival, and she was nervous.

"…. She was just so cold the last time I saw her. Do you remember when she dropped me off, she did not smile, or cry she merely told me to behave and got right back in to carriage!"

"Perhaps she was still in strong mourning for your father, perhaps she distanced herself because it hurt to much. Perhaps things will be better now. " He reassured her, he did not want her worrying over yet _another_ thing.

"I do hope you're right Francis, I do hope you are right." She said, turning to plant a kiss on his lips.


End file.
